


Bar Night

by SullenDragon



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 03:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18380360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SullenDragon/pseuds/SullenDragon
Summary: Rule number one of Buddy Bar Night is "don't leave your buddy alone."





	Bar Night

“Oh, no you don't, Sandburg!” He'd practically yelled it across the bar. Snagging Blair's coat off the chair back, Jim ignored the inquisitive and irritated looks he was getting from nearby patrons. His best scowl quickly cleared a path from his former table to his partner's new perch. 

Blair had always been friendly and chatty while ordering drinks, but the looks -- and the conversation -- had turned quickly from an easily-ended chat into the kind of lecture that Jim had come to recognize as the Sandburg Mating Call.

Maybe it made Jim an asshole, to want their post-case bar night to be a little less party and a little more partner.

“Horror stories are a lot like fairy tales; most of the stories show up in different forms in different cultures. Horror is more likely to be updated with modern…” Jim had heard that lecture more than once, but he was determined that Professor Sandburg would not be teaching Intro to Anthro for all the pretty young things tonight. The woman's eyes caught his just before he clapped a hand onto Blair's shoulder and leaned into him.

“Blair.” Voice low, in an attempt to be heard under the shrill of the crowd. Blair startled and settled in rapid succession.

“Oh, hey Jim!” A curly ponytail smacked Jim's shoulder as Blair turned to breathe his Coors-breath right in Jim's face, and then back to face the woman's interested expression.

“Skip the lesson, Chief. It's about time for us to be home.” That was the only option, really. If it wasn't this nice lady, it'd be another, and the residual buzz from Jim's leap off a warehouse was still pushing him to move, pat at the unbroken whole of Sandburg's everything and maybe start a fight over nothing. Fight with her, fight with anyone, and the close heat of strangers was pressing in on him now.

“Sorry, didn't mean to keep you!" the woman said. "If I had that waiting for me I'd be rushing off! You lucky thing.” She looked from Jim's face to Blair's and shifted gears flawlessly, raising an eyebrow and grinning lasciviously at them.

“No problem,” Jim said, poking Blair's side hard enough that his “We're not--!” died a duck-call death in his throat.

Blair turned to give him a look, but the glare morphed into shock when he met Jim's eyes. He stood, and Jim started panicking. He took a step back, dropped his hands to his sides and watched Blair in silence. Blair grabbed him by the front of his favorite blue button-up and yanked him down for a fast, biting kiss. Jim opened his eyes to watch Blair make their excuses to the woman -- Tara -- and check that their tab was clear. When Blair turned and headed for the door, Jim followed, still holding the canvas of Blair's coat crushed against him.

He didn't look back, but before the crowd swallowed them up, he heard a deep, throaty chuckle and the clink of ice in a glass, as if someone behind him had raised her glass, a salute to his initiative.


End file.
